Ryuuou no Oshigoto! - Volume 1 - Chapter Pr

☗ PROLOGUE

“Master … It’s rock hard. …”

A lot has happened in the three months since I took the title of Ryuo, including taking on my first apprentice, a girl in the third grade. One thing led to another and now she’s living with me.

“Mngh … It’s just too haaard …”

This nine-year-old girl sitting in front of me, her soft cheeks rosier than you can imagine, leaned over with her cute eyes glued to her Master’s round formation, whining like a puppy.

This girl is so cute, I’d swear she’s an angel.

Feeling a little guilty that my wall got this hard playing with an innocent, still young enough to be considered “little” little girl like this, didn’t stop me.

It’s so hard, this is bordering on inappropriate advantage.

“Nh …”

My first apprentice, Ai Hinatsuru, takes a few hot, moist breaths before exposing her position and inviting me to make my move.

A bold technique for an elementary school girl.

But, I just gotta …

“… You sure, Ai?”

My young apprentice has made her decision, and I confirm.

She …

“……”

She nods and says nothing, her little body trembling ever so slightly …

I hesitate for only a moment, but my mind is made up. It’s an open invitation.

“Here I go …”

“Y-yes …!”

I reach out, aiming for her most vital point, closer and closer.

Then, just as my finger touched it …

“Ah! N-no, I take it back!!”

Ai’s whole body flinches, unable to hold back a scream for mercy.

She never expected my hand to go there, and her knee-jerk reaction is priceless. But I’m enjoying every second of it.

“Shisho, please … wait …”

“No.”

I speak coolly. Waiting isn’t allowed.

“That word doesn’t exist for professional Shogi players.”

“Hyee …!” Ai is on the verge of tears.

A perfectly normal reaction losing your rook (hisha) and being put in check (oute) at the same time. Love has no place on a Shogi board.

April. Osaka.

The cherry blossom trees in Osaka Castle Park are a few days past full bloom, their many petals fluttering to the ground like pink snow on a warm spring breeze.

People have come from far and wide to look at the pink flowers tilt their heads in our direction.

“… What’er they doin’?”

“… Shogi? Here, of all places?”

“Even cute little girls like that play Shogi?”

“Wouldn’ it be a real pain, draggin’ that thing out of the house? Their Shogi board don’t look all that light …”

“Hold up, isn’t that Yaichi Kuzuryu, the pro Shogi player?”

A few Shogi fans recognize me and start snapping pictures with their smartphones.

Ai and I have been playing a game of Shogi beneath a particularly marvelous blossoming cherry tree in the middle of a park on the west of Osaka Castle, Maruteien, known for cherry blossoms.

We’ve been at it since early this morning, so a lot of fallen petals have gotten stuck in Ai’s smooth, shiny hair already.

I whisk away the petals that fell on the board with my fan and point at the chess clock (basically two alarm clocks that keep time for Shogi matches; accurate down to the second) to put more pressure on my apprentice.

“See? You’ll run out of time if you don’t move fast!”

“Uwh … mmhh …!”

From there, she put up a better fight than the usual grade schooler, her eyes absolutely on fire. But she couldn’t hold off the Ryuo’s attack at such an overwhelming disadvantage and threw in the towel.

“… I lost,” she says, her whole body writhing in the agony of defeat.

Then she points at my side of the board, specifically the hard, impenetrable circle of defense around my King.

“You’re mean, Master! That’s evil! What am I supposed to do about it: a King hiding behind a hard wall like that?!”

“Told you, didn’t I? An even match wouldn’t be a match at all.”

Of course, a grade schooler challenging a pro Shogi player to a game with no handicap would get their butt handed to them on a silver platter.

Even if this grade schooler was far better than average.

I know she’s got real talent. That’s why I didn’t show mercy, and why I took her as my apprentice. This is talent that any professional Shogi player must have, and she’s got it in spades.

And that talent is …

“One more! One more match, please!”

“Another one? What’re we up to now? Twenty? Thirty …?”

We’ve been nonstop since this morning, but she still hasn’t had enough. Not that I don’t understand where she’s coming from.

After all, Shogi pros are people who can go out for a night of karaoke and spend it huddled around a smuggled-in Shogi board without singing a single song. That includes me.

I’ve lost pieces to the ocean waves on trips to the beach, played quick league matches with my head in a fog due to altitude sickness after climbing a mountain …

“Hey, aren’t Ginko and Keika late? Mio and her friends should be here by now too …”

“You’re right. Oh, wanna play a match while we wait? Wanna? Wanna?!”

A lightbulb clicked on.

“Ai … Did you tell everyone about the picnic today?”

“I told them?”

“You didn’t, did you?”

“I did, I did! … Just might’ve fibbed the time a little bit.”

“Hey!”

“It’s fine. They’ll come in about four hours.”

Four whole hours.

“It’ll be night by then! Why the heck did you do that?!”

“B-but …”

Ai looks away, puckering her lips and says barely above a whisper, “… I wanted to play, play, play and play Shogi, just the two of us …”

“……!!”

That has to be against the rules.

This little girl, so cute that everyone walking through Osaka Castle’s massive park is rubber necking for a closer look, asking me to play Shogi with those big, trembling eyes glistening with tears.

And she’s my apprentice—my very first one.

I can’t! How could anyone resist that? It’s impossible!!

“… Ten-minute waiting time. Thirty seconds once it’s out, got it?”

“Yay! I love you, Master♡”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Sure, that no-holds-barred confession of love made my heart skip a beat, but I remind myself she’s in grade school right away. I don’t have a Lolita complex or anything. But she’s just too damn cute. Gah …

Cursing myself for giving into her every whim, we start lining up pieces on the board, excitedly clacking back and forth like people playing catch.

This tiny little girl sitting in front of a thick Shogi board.

She showed up out of the blue one day, appearing like an angel and I was saved.

Saved by her purity, and by her love of Shogi.

“Whenever you’re ready!”

All pieces lined up in a neat little row, Ai sits up straight with perfect posture before bowing so low that she almost hits her forehead on the board.

As soon as my bow is complete, she’s already up and holding her first piece as if the match can’t start soon enough. Her small hand dances over the board as more delicate pink petals dance on the breeze overhead.

“…… Nh!”

Making the first move, Ai slaps the piece into place with a loud click! Sighs come from the people who came here to see the cherry blossom trees but instead happened to witness something more beautiful and fleeting than the pink flowers.

Then Ai sits up a little bit, stretching out to reach the chess clock and gives it a hard whack.

Now it’s my turn.

Huh, seeing the clock tick like this sure brings back memories.

The day I first met Ai—everything that happened on the day that our chess clock started marking time.